


Caught Between Your Teeth

by omegaxibir



Category: Marvel (Comics), The Avengers (2012)
Genre: M/M, Mild Gore, Romance, Romance-ish, Vivisection, but its beautiful, the two of them have a strange thing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-08
Updated: 2013-02-08
Packaged: 2017-11-28 14:41:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,611
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/675542
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/omegaxibir/pseuds/omegaxibir
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Victor wanted to know every inch of Loki, wanted to crawl inside his head and pry out every secret, wanted to know what made him tick.  But he was a scientist first and foremost. And Loki wasn't one to pass up a chance to flaunt his power- even if it meant being split open.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Caught Between Your Teeth

They had been partners for years at this point, and their relationship had changed wildly. It was impossible to define. It had gone from Doom being Loki's savior (which the god would _never_ admit, not in a thousand years) and Loki the captured invalid, to Loki the mad god and Doom the keeper, the agent to the walking mass of chaos Loki had become. From that came an alliance, power complimented power -and they were a powerful duo. From that alliance came a vague semblance of friendship, fueled by a mutual respect. Doom was human but he was wise and had a great capacity for magic, he was _the_ most fascinating mortal Loki had ever met. And Loki was a god, and until they met, Doom did not believe in gods.  
Fascination turned to passion, they were forces clashing, but when their storms were in sync they left nothing but a beautiful destruction in their wake.

It wasn't a secret to Loki that Doom was fascinated by him, after all, why shouldn't he be? Even if Doom doubted his godhood, he was Asgardian and Jotun, all at once. And so when Doom finally approached him about examining him, he wasn't surprised at all.   
Doom was a scientist. Victor wanted to know every inch of Loki, wanted to crawl inside his head and pry out every secret, wanted to know what made him tick. Victor had whispered it to Loki in the dark many times before. - "You are an enigma, Loki. I want to solve you."

It was almost an obsession, really.  
   
"Loki," Doom began at dinner one night, over wine. "Allow me to make a proposal."  
"So soon? Oh, Victor, I didn't know you felt that way." came the Trickster's reply, along with the same coy half-smile he always put on.  
They didn't talk about such things. They only joked.  
"Hush. I need you to subject yourself to an experiment."  
The god wrinkled his nose slightly. The word alone left a bitter taste in his mouth.  
"Don't look like that," Doom continued. "It will be painless. I want to study your system first-hand. Working, living, thriving. You are one of a kind, Loki. It can only be you."  
Loki took a deep drink of his wine and thought to himself that words like that would be his downfall.  
"How do you expect to do this, Victor?"  
"A simple procedure. Anesthetics will be administered of course, as much as you like. I can have you unconscious if you wish. I only want to open you up, look around, record my findings, and we'll be through."  
Loki stopped and thought for a moment. It was a small favor, really, in the grand scheme of things. Surely no harm would come to him- what could a _mortal_ do to a god, even one such as Doom? If anything, it would only serve him. Doom would get a glimpse of how powerful he truly was, would trust him a bit more, and best of all- be in his debt. That was worth letting Doom know his inner workings.  
He ignored the nagging in his gut that told him it was simply because he'd do anything for approval, especially that of his lover. His _lover._ Not his love. Never his _love._ They were incapable of such things.  
A smirk played at the corner of the Trickster's lips.  "Do you really think I'll allow myself to be unconscious while you play around with my vitals? Numb the pain, I'm not a glutton for punishment, but I want to be awake."  
"That isn't easy, Loki."  
"Nothing is. Do as I ask or no deal."  
"You drive a hard bargain." Without the mask, Loki could see him smile.  "I'm not disappointed."

And so there they were, Loki fixed to a table, the steel cold against the bare flesh of his back, the needle buried in his arm fixed to a drip of _something._ All of Loki's medical knowledge came from magic, not science. And yet here he was, his blood feeling like ice in his veins.  
How wonderfully apt.  
Doom urged him to shift into his Jotun form, as he unlaced his metal gauntlets to give himself more dexterity, to allow him to make precise, small movements.  
Loki was thankful for that, at least, he thought to himself as he watched Doom pull on latex gloves.  
Victor would never show skin for very long, but Loki took a sick comfort in the fact that part of Doom's forearm was exposed. If Loki had to lie there, Jotun and numb and cold, then it was only fair that Doom have a bit of vulnerability as well. A chink in his armor.

Loki smirked as he watched the look in Doom's eyes as he shifted. Yes. Doom had a chink in his armor, indeed- cold and blue and about to be cut open.  
"Wait." Loki murmured. "Let me see your face."  
Doom paused. He figured he at least owed Loki that. Perhaps this way Loki wouldn't pester him about being in his debt later.  
So he shrugged and removed the mask, setting it aside before taking a marker and marking dotted lines, below his collarbones, joining one long line from sternum to navel. He put the marker down and Loki continued to stare up at the ceiling. Victor leaned down to press a kiss to his lips.  
"I can't feel that." he said.  
"Good." came the scientist's reply. 

He felt the press of the scalpel in his flesh, but no pain, just as Victor had promised.   
The skin came apart with a soft sigh, like the tearing of fine silk, and the sound thundered in Loki's ears. No pain. Not a thing. Just pressure. Temperature.   
No pain.  
Doom peeled the skin back and Loki couldn't help but watch. Only for a moment. Yes, he was fascinated with the scientist, and was fascinated with how he worked.   
Loki inhaled sharply, he could feel the cold air of the room pouring into his gaping chest, suffocating in its sterility. He'd never felt so exposed.

Loki was as flawless on the inside as he was on the outside. And Victor had taken enough bodies apart to know physical perfection when he saw it. Loki's heart kept a steady beat, lungs slowly expanding and contracting under his ribcage. Loki was cool against Doom's gloved fingers, his temperature lower than a human's. The bones of his ribcage looked as though they were cast of marble, smeared with traces of blood, just as red as blood had ever looked. No...Perhaps redder, dark and scarlet when juxtaposed with the blue of his flesh.

Victor pried through blood and muscle to get to the Jotun's viscera, slowly trailing his fingers over the slopes of his organs. He made a mental note of every little difference, and Loki's breath hitched once or twice, though his hand was curled into a fist, nails digging into his palm. Loki could feel it-just the pressure. Just the temperature. He felt as though time itself had slowed and the slightest notion of terror made his pupils dilate. He wasn't sure if he was afraid because he was vulnerable (as vulnerable as a _god_ could be before a mortal), or afraid because he felt like perhaps Doom could see into his soul along with his body, could see through all his flaws and masks and mirrors.  
But it wasn't horrible.

The thought flashed across Loki's mind that _this_ was surely the most intimate he'd get with anyone. He had to resort to letting someone cut him open to feel close to anyone at all. It was ironic and pathetic all at once and he wasn't sure how he felt about it so he closed his eyes and went back to feeling nothing but strange pressure and cold air and warm fingers.

And Doom never stopped to talk to Loki, and Loki never spoke to Doom. Words were pointless. Like so many things between the pair of them, there was a silent understanding. So the only sounds in the room were quiet, the slick motions of latex against blood and flesh. 

Loki was snapped from his half-trance when Victor slowly began to move his skin back into place, sliding right back as it should be, red lines in a gaping 'Y' where he'd been cut. So Victor procured a curved needle, surgical thread.   
Loki let out a quiet laugh. His track record with needles and thread was less than ideal.  
Victor smirked. "It's for your cuts…but I will be sure to use any extra on your mouth if you wish… _Scar-Lip._ "  
As if by instinct, or just to make sure he still could, Loki slowly dragged his tongue over his lips. "You'd miss the sound of my voice."  
"Wouldn't I?" Doom said, and then fell into silence as he began to stitch Loki up.  
Loki hated the fact that this was the only part he couldn't watch.

Doom wrapped Loki in gauze and took the needle from his arm.   
"With your healing abilities, I have no doubt you will be up and around by tomorrow. Perhaps in a few hours, should you choose to perform some of your magicks on yourself."  
"Come now, Victor. You won't leave me on this table, will you?"  
"No. I'm going to carry you while the anesthetic is still in effect."  
"Oh, that's absurd."  
"You'll risk bursting your stitches."

And so Loki consented, and instead of the cold metal of the table it was the cold metal of Doom's armor.  
Loki was simply grateful that he had such a fondness for the cold. Otherwise it would have been intolerable.


End file.
